


Reciprocal

by JaneSkazki



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26644672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneSkazki/pseuds/JaneSkazki
Summary: A moment in a bar, around the time of The Cage
Kudos: 2





	Reciprocal

They were waiting for Captain Pike, in a dark and grimy bar, patronised chiefly by criminals of one sort or another. The Commander imagined that it was possible to make distinctions between the criminals, to subdivide them into 'masterminds', 'thugs', 'pimps', alongside the hapless victims of circumstances and misguided users of illicit products and services. As they bickered and bartered, however, she saw little reason to bother. They were criminals, and that, for the moment, was all one needed to know. Lieutenant Spock fetched her another drink from the bar: he thought it his duty to protect her from the press of thieves and gropers, to let her sit safely here in the shadows. So she sat, and watched him joke with the prostitutes and their minders, laughing at their off-colour stories, ragging the bartender about his equally off-colour 'zinfandel'.

Two hours, and they were still waiting for Christopher Pike.

She was beginning to notice patterns in the movements of the clientele, movements upstairs and, fifteen or twenty minutes later, down again. Movements from table to table as prices were compared and deals made. Movements as arguments flared and an acceptable drinking companion suddenly became a deadly enemy.

Vulcans, it seemed, were acceptable drinking companions to one and all. Perhaps it was their renowned dislike for violence. Perhaps it was the novelty of watching this particular Vulcan down glass after glass of Romulan ale.

She shook her head. Spock, the ultimate party Vulcan; he tried so hard not to be what he plainly was.

"Alone? Such a beautiful woman?"

She looked up. Christopher Pike was leering, pantomime style, at her.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken. I'm not beautiful, and I find it makes my job more difficult if I constantly remind people that I'm a woman." Her grip tightened on her glass. What on earth had prompted her to say that? Compliments, empty compliments about her looks, always annoyed her, but her usual response was less scornful; less emotional.

"It does seem a shameful waste, you sitting there in that perfectly gorgeous body, when you've no intention of using it."

"Captain," she said softly, "you're drunk."

She noticed Spock glancing at them. He had a lissom blonde twined around one arm, and a recently refilled glass. She shook her head, telling him not to come over: Spock had zero discretion.

Pike took a seat. He reached out across the table and grabbed one of her hands before she could snatch it away. "I was negotiating with Pyrrethans. You know you can't refuse a drink from a Pyrrethan and expect to clinch a deal."

She nodded reluctant acceptance of his excuse. "And until the Enterprise gets back, you can't get a shot from Boyce for the effects..."

"So I thought I'd be safe with you." He grinned like a little boy. "You won't let me make a fool of myself in front of anyone who matters."

She pointed at Spock. Pike sighed. "Well, he's busy."

The Vulcan was. He had borrowed a set of five flame-filled, glass globes from an itinerant juggler and was performing for the bar's customers.

"Let's hope no one comes in with a unicycle," she said heavily.

"I worry about Spock," Pike said. "And you. I worry about all my men. You're like a family to me, the family I never had..."

'Maudlin,' she noted. She hadn't often observed Pike inebriated. She wondered if he'd follow the standard human pattern. It would probably depend on what he'd had to drink. With luck, he'd just fall asleep.

"I worry about Spock though. He's... he's not really in the right place..."

"He's not the right species," she said.

"No. That's true. But more importantly, he shouldn't really be in Starfleet, not doing what he's doing. He's not that smart, you see. Not human smart."

She sighed, discretely. If Pike needed to be drunk to notice that, they were all in trouble. It was the worst kept secret on the Enterprise.

"But because he's a Vulcan, everyone just assumes he's smart. I'm not saying he's stupid. He's just not as smart as everyone assumes."

"Are you thinking of requesting a transfer for him?" she said, suddenly seeing an opportunity to talk Pike into something he'd never consider if he was sober.

"I'd never get away with it. I'd be condemned for specism."

And, she considered, she'd lose her access to the one Vulcan trait Spock didn't seem to feel any need to shed. Sexual stamina. She felt her muscles clench at the thought.

"You, though, they'd let me transfer you. Preferably to linguistics, or botany... or flower arranging."

"What?" She kept her disinterested mask with difficulty.

"Admiral Tench, the other day. Sour old fish. Ha! That's what we used to call him when he taught cultural relativism at the Academy. The old fish!" Pike rocked with silent laughter for a few moments. "I probably shouldn't have told you he said that."

"You haven't told me what he said," she pointed out.

"Good."

"But I can imagine."

"It's a tragedy," Pike said, serious again. "Here's you, best first officer in the whole damn fleet..."

"That's true."

"No, I'm being serious. You're good, but no one wants to know. If the Enterprise turns in less than one hundred percent on any assignment, I can see they're all thinking, if Pike would only get rid of that woman."

She didn't argue, because she knew that was also true.

"I'm sorry, but that is what they're thinking."

"Yes, Captain."

"Really. I'm not making it up. And there's Spock..."

They both paused to contemplate Spock. He had swapped his uniform tunic for a cropped satin jacket with short sleeves. It strained across his shoulders. Its owner, clad in blue velour and little else, was perched on his lap. Wriggling.

"He never even wanted to be in deep space. But Starfleet wanted a Vulcan on the flagship, and he was the only one they had."

Which explained a great deal, she thought.

"He told me once, that he wanted to be a veterinary nurse."

She felt mildly nauseous.

Pike suddenly caught her other hand, and leaned forward across the table, so that their faces were a hand's breadth apart. The stench of Pyrrethan juniper made her eyes water. "Ah... Captain."

"And so, when this scientist came in, to sell some ancient medical technology he'd found..."

"That's illegal."

"Maybe, but I didn't want to upset everyone by getting heavy about it. I decided to leave instead. To come back and let you two look out for me. And then it struck me. It sounded... well, it sounded like just what you and Spock need."

"Medical technology?" She was outraged, but intrigued. Medical technology that could banish sexism and specism in a single dose? If Pike hadn't been drunk, it might have been worth pursuing. "And he was willing to sell you enough to treat the whole of Starfleet?"

"No, no, no. You don't understand. I only needed enough for you two, and he gave me that. The Pyrrethans weren't interested, and he said he was just clearing his inventory before going straight."

Sometimes Pike's naievety was mindblowing. She worried for a moment what kind of deal he'd cut with the Pyrrethans. "Gave it to you?"

"Practically. He just needed to cover his expenses." Pike shyly reached into a pocket and held out two glowing capsules on his palm. "He told me, if two people take these, and then twenty minutes later, they make physical contact... extensive physical contact..." He winked slowly, indulgently, at her, and to her annoyance, she found herself blushing. Trust Pike to know about her Thursday afternoon arrangement with Spock. "... then they switch."

"Switch?"

"Bodies. They switch into each other's bodies. Think about it."

She did. It was bizarre. Spock had now adopted a stray dog-like creature that had wandered into the bar. He was feeding it a local savoury 'snack', made from deep fried, spiced legumes. The animal began to break wind explosively. It couldn't possibly have digested them that quickly, so it must be a trick it had learned to please its audience. The thought made her uncomfortable.

"Take these." Pike pressed them into her hand and folded her fingers shut around them. "Take these, and take Spock upstairs. When you come down, the Enterprise will still have the best first officer in the fleet, even if she is playing at being science officer for a while, and Spock can wash that goddawful brown dye out of your beautiful platinum blonde hair and go back to Earth."  
“Captain…” She stopped. If he wanted to believe that her one and only experiment with being blonde had been genuine, who was she to disillusion him?  
Then it struck her. "Starfleet have refused to confirm my field promotion, haven't they?" It was as clear as the void between galaxies, and as cold. "Bastards."

Pike nodded, his eyes heavy with the easy tears of a drunk.

"And they've suggested that you make some other promotions. They mentioned Spock. For Science Officer."

"Because he's a good scientist," Pike pointed out defensively.

"Because he's got a dick," she said, her words all the more shocking for being delivered without emotion. "And pointed ears."

"I don't know how long it will take. You know how Starfleet is: they blow hot and cold. But if you take those pills then one day you'll be first officer again, and maybe captain eventually. Maybe not my first officer. I can't guarantee that."

There was no question that his regret was genuine, and she found herself wishing he would show a little regret at sending her upstairs to make love to the Vulcan. She withdrew her hand from his, keeping hold of the capsules. She stopped. "Can this be reversed?"

"He said it can. You just need another two capsules. He said he wasn't planning to go back where he got them again, but he could tell you where it was."

She listened as he told her what he knew about the scientist, and then she nodded. She dropped both capsules into her glass and drank half the contents once they had dissolved. "Spock," she said, just loud enough for his Vulcan hearing to catch it over the hubbub of the bar.

His head turned. She tipped her own head toward the stairs. He grinned and made his excuses to his drinking companions.

"Captain Pike, Number One." As usual, his voice was pitched a little too loud.

"The captain is... he's arranged to meet someone here, and he needs us to make ourselves scarce. Here, finish this, I'm going to fall over if I have any more." She held out her glass. He emptied it.

He followed her dutifully up the stairs, unquestioning. He let her pay the porter and take the key code. He let her lead him into a small, clean room with a large bed, a shower unit in one corner, and big mirrors on one wall and on the ceiling. Once they were alone, she let him lead her, as she always did. Naked, she lay back on the bed, and watched him undress the body that would soon be hers. Hers. She bit her lip.

He threw himself astride her, making the bed bounce. His erection poked her playfully in the stomach. He nuzzled at her neck with small impatient kisses.

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back. "Spock..."

"Yes?"

"Can I... do something I've always wanted to do to you?"

"How could I resist any request from you, my Venus, my foxy lady? Do whatever you want with me."

She rolled her eyes and flipped him over so that she sat astride him. "Now, shut your eyes, and relax."

"Ow!" Spock sat up again, knocking the tweezers out of her fingers. "What are you doing?"

"Redefining our eyebrows, Lieutenant."

"You find this erotic?"

"Somewhat."

" _Our_ eyebrows?"

"You'll see what I mean in a moment." She traced the new line with her tongue. Then she told him what she had done, and why she had done it, and that if it didn't work out, all he had to do was find Roger Korby and persuade him to reveal where he'd obtained the capsules.

At first, he listened quietly. Then he thought about it. Then he smiled. "That time you dyed your hair blonde…"

"You can dye our hair any colour you like. And you’re going to love how human men feel about platinum blondes."

"You mean, like this?" He grinned and showed her that he already had a pretty good idea what she meant.

She came, and lay back waiting for him to reach his climax, pleasure still shaking her body. He came in turn, yelling her name, "Christine!"

She rarely regretted the exchange. Spock did eventually, but Roger was more difficult to 'persuade' than either of them expected, and the android replacement was completely unpersuadable. Spock's first reaction to Korby's death was to institute a campaign to seduce Number One and see if the reversal could be procured without the capsules. She never succumbed, even when afflicted by the pon farr of which he'd failed to warn her. Frustrated by her lack of cooperation, Spock reverted to type, although he kept the hairstyle. He became as Vulcan as a platinum blonde can be. Meanwhile, Number One had many adventures in her new body, which you can read about elsewhere.


End file.
